Esmeralda
by Opaque Opal
Summary: Disney HoND with the plotline of 20th Century Fox's Anastasia. While the orphan Esme tries to solve her mysterious past and find her family, she takes on the help of the Clopin and Valdemar. But with Frollo in pursuit, it won't be easy. Please R
1. Preparing for a Party

A special thanks to , my job, and all the Youtube videos that have Frollo doing Rasputin's "In The Dark of The Night"! Without them, this story wouldn't be possible.

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**A/N: Alright, this idea came into my head a few days ago. Basically it's a Disney **_**Hunchback of Notre Dame**_** spin on 20****th**** Century Fox's animated movie **_**Anastasia.**_** Yet some people still think that Anastasia is Disney just because it's a cartoon, which makes me angry. Furthermore, I am trying to do this story based in the 15****th**** century yet make this close to the movie version of **_**Anastasia.**_** I'll try my best to keep this story as historically accurate as possible. But seeing how the movie wasn't historically accurate, that'll prove to be a challenge. But I'll try my best!**

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It was a fine day in the Court of Miracles. Preperations were being made for the 300th anniversary of the rule of the Romanai family. There was to be plenty of music, dancing, and whatever food they could supply. Esmeralda, who was the youngest daughter of the Romanai family, was especially excited. She had recently turned eight and couldn't wait for the celebration! But she knew towards the end of the night she'd be sad. Her Grandmother Maite would be returning to Bucharest, which was a city far away from Paris. And as she was so close to her, she knew it'd be one of the toughest things she'd have to deal with. But at least she had other members of her family she could count on! She smiled at the thought. There was her father Niklaus and Alondra. Then she had her older sisters Olya, Tariana, and Malia. And then there was her younger brother Alawi. Even the family goat held a special place in her heart.

"Esmeralda! We have to get ready for tonight's celebration!" cried a girl, picking her up and swinging her around.

"Malia, put me down!" Esmeralda giggled. Her elder sister, who was fourteen, simply smiled at her. Like their ages, their appearances were polar opposites. While Esmeralda's eyes glittered like the emerald of her namesake, Tariana's were blue. And while Esmeralda's hair was black, her sister's was brown.

"Alright, I'll set you down. But we have to get back to the tent. Mama said that the dancing should be starting soon."

And with that, the two sisters set off. Their tent, like the others in the Romanai family, had been set up on the outskirts or the court. Their elder sisters, Olya and Tatiana shared one tent. Their parents shared one, and Alawi was allowed his own. As they entered their tent, Esmeralda couldn't help but gasp in surprise. Her dress was red and the purple sleeves rested below her shoulder. A gold tiara accompanied it as well. Malia's dress was quite similar to hers as far as the style. However, her sleeves were green and the dress was blue. After quickly changing and arranging the tiara's in their hair, the sound of a horn blared throughout the Court of Miracles.

"Do you know what that means?" Malia asked in delight. Esmeralda nodded. At last, the celebration was to begin!

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Disclaimer: I know that Maria and Anastasia barely had that much of an age difference between them. But as there is a big age gap between them in the movie, I decided to do just that.

**A/N: If you had a hard time picturing Esmeralda's dress for the 300th Anniversary, its exactly like the FoF dress, but smaller. Anywhoo, I know this is short. But I hope you like it! Reviews are appreciated!**


	2. 300th Anniversary

**A/N: Alright, yet another long update. Most of the fact it has to do with me being lazy. But Galinda Girl pointed out a few questions that I'm happy to clear up. I tried to make the names of the characters in the story correspond to Romanov family members. Like Olga is Olya and so on and so forth. I wasn't trying to make them French at all. Also, I noticed a typo by saying Tariana's eyes were blue. But I meant to say Malia. Ah well. On with the chapter! **

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Esmeralda gaped in awe at the beauty of the Court of Miracles. The colored tapestries hung from nearly every wall. The women's skirts were swirling around in a pinwheel of different colors as they danced. Some of those who were in no mood to dance socialized by the table of food, talking animatedly as they held goblets filled to the brim with cheap alcohol. In another corner, a puppet show was being put on for the Gypsy toddlers, who watched with fascination as the cloth characters acted in front of a backdrop.

"I think Alawi is watching the puppet show," Malia noted, pointing out their brother sitting cross-legged in front of the caravan putting on the show.

"I don't want to watch the puppet show! I want to dance!" Esmeralda said. Grabbing her sister's hand, she pulled her through the crowd, skipping to the beat of the musical instruments being played. Giggling as they tried not to trip on loose cobblestones, they made their way over to their older sisters and their parents as the song ended.

Olya and Tariana were whispering to one another, grinning from ear to ear. Olya was the eldest at fourteen. Sometimes Esmeralda thought that she could be bossy. But other than that, she was fine. Tariana was twelve and had blue eyes like Malia.

"What are you guys whispering about?" Esmeralda asked with interest.

"Oh nothing," Tariana said, feigning confusion. Olya snorted accidentally as she laughed. Her mother, Alondra, silenced her immediatley by a quiet glare that clearly said _That noise was quite odd_. _A farmer would've mistaken you for a sow if you were in the vincity of a farm. _

"How's my Esmeralda?" her father Niklaus asked, picking his youngest daughter up and swinging her around. He had a kind face with a bushy brown beard and big brown eyes. Esmeralda's mother, smiled as the green-eyed girl squealed giddily. Suddenly, a very majestic song was playing throughout the Court.

"Come, let us all dance now!" Olya exclaimed, practically yanking Tariana's arm off as they went into the crowd. Shrugging their shoulders, the Gypsy King, his wife, and youngest daughters soon followed after them. Esmeralda hadn't been dancing for long when a voice called to her.

"Hello, darling!"

Esmeralda caught sight of her Grandmother Maite sitting in a chair slightly elevated above the crowd. She was waving a wizened hand and beaming at her.

"Grandmamma!" she cried. Before she could reach her though, her father swung her around one last time. Oblivious to the fact that her tiara had fallen out of her hair, she hurried to Maite.

"Aren't I pretty, Grandmamma?" she asked, curtsying slightly.

"Yes, you are," Maite chuckled, tapping the young girl's nose with a gnarled finger. Reaching into a pocket that had been sewn on her skirt, she pulled out a blue necklace. Esmeralda would've looked at it in greater detail, but something caught her eye. She spotted a scrawny boy around her age, staring at her. He was biting an apple and looked like he was trying not to get caught doing something wrong.

"For me? Is it a dream catcher?" Esmeralda asked in awe. Before her grandmother could respond, an angry voice shouted "Clopin! You need to be working at the puppet show!"

"No dearest. Look closer," Maite instructed. Squinting her green eyes, Esmeralda could make out a bunch of symbols.

"It's a map!" Esmeralda gasped.

"Yes my darling. When you wear this woven band, you hold Bucharest in your hand," she said, putting it around her neck.

"But how will I know where to go?" Esmeralda asked. Her Grandmamma smiled, as if they were going to share a secret.

"Just remember this song," Maite said. And with that, she quietly began to sing:

_On the wind_

_'Cross the sea_

_Hear this song and remember_

_Soon you'll be_

_Home with me_

_Once upon a November_

"We'll be together in Bucharest one day, Esmeralda. I promise. But until then-" she paused, taking off her ring that had a green stone in it, "I want you to have this."

"Really?" Esmeralda exclaimed, unable to contain her happiness.

"Yes. I feel like I can trust this with you. And look! The stone matches your beautiful eyes too."

"Thank you!" gushed Esmeralda, hugging Maite. Inhaling her cinnamon-like scent, she was comforted. Even though they'd be miles away, Maite had promised that they'd be together again one day. Knowing that she had some of Maite's most prized possessions, Esmeralda knew she'd be able to wait.

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**A/N: I don't own the song "Once Upon a December", but I slightly changed it. Thanks so much for all those who reviewd and I hope you review again! And to those who haven't read this yet, hope you continue to follow the story! **


	3. Attack!

**A/N: Thanks to all my reveiwers on the last chapter! This chapter is a bit grim and slightly graphic as far as the battle goes. Also be awar the POV switches a bit. Other than that, enjoy! **

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Well into the night, the celebration began to wind down. People began to wish each other well, crawling into their tents and stepping into their caravans.

"Wasn't that party fun?" Esmeralda yawned to Malia as they headed to their tent. Her sister made an odd grunting noise, not answering her question. Esmeralda shrugged her shoulders, taking that as an adequate response. Whenever Malia got tired, she barely uttered a word, let alone a complete sentence. So it was relatively silent as they slipped into their nightgowns. Cuddling for warmth under the blankets, the sisters fell into a deep sleep, unaware of what was to become of them…

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**A/N: POV switch!! **

Not far away from the Court of Miracles, Judge Claude Frollo was staring into a roaring fire. He had a deranged look on his face, smiling evilly as he twiddled his fingers.

"Master, what exactly are we doing?" asked a voice. He had to be no older than nine. But his appearance was quite hideous. He had a round hump on his back, crooked teeth, long arms, and a wart right above his eye.

"Be quiet, boy!" Frollo snarled, "I'm making preparations!"

"What kind of preparations?" the boy questioned, a lisp clearly audible as he blinked his green eyes. Frollo at last turned around, running a hand over his thinning gray hair. It took all his might not to hit this misshapen creature. The child simply didn't get it!

"We've been over this many times, Quasimodo. The filthy Gypsies are having some celebration tonight honoring their king's family. And it's our job to make sure everyone of them is slaughtered. "

"But you always said killing was a sin!" Quasi piped up, still managing to give off an innocent demeanor.

"Two sins make a commandment. If you commit a sin to a sinful person, God will reward for it and you will return to Him in Heaven," Frollo explained, massaging his temple.

"Alrighty then! I wanna make a commandment!" Quasi beamed, skipping awkwardly around the room.

"Stop prancing gaily!" Frollo barked, "You should be grateful that I even allowed you to get out of that belltower! As soon as those Gypsies are killed, Paris will be rid of their filthy blood and we shall start anew!" And with that, Frollo began to cackle loudly, his pupils practically slits. Quasi tried to do an evil laugh to match Frollo's, but he could only muster a giggle.

"Gosh Master! I wish I could laugh like you," said Quasi humbly.

"You will be once this is over. Come, we must alert the troops. Those Gypsies will be lucky if they see the sunrise!"

"But we don't want them to see the sunrise!" Quasi said matter-of-factly.

"Exactly," Frollo sneered.

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**A/N: POV switch (again)!**

"Esmeralda! Get up! We have to get up!" Malia shrieked, dragging the blankets off her younger sister.

"Huh?" Esmeralda asked. Without waiting for a response, Malia practically yanked her sister's arm off as she dragged her out of the tent. Ear-splitting screams pierced her ears, followed by the clanking of metal swords. The stench of blood stung her nostrils as she stumbled clumsily after her sister. They tried to make their way through the crowd of people. They clearly were attempting to head for the exit. But they were being stabbed by armoured men, collapsing to the ground in a torrent of blood and guts.

"Where are Mama and Papa? And everyone else?" Esmeralda cried, close to tears. This wasn't good at all. How were they supposed to find their family in this mess? Unless they already had perished... _Don't think about that _Esmeralda thought to herself firmly.

"I don't know! But we have to stick together!" Malia exclaimed.

"There you are!" said a voice, catching up to the two girls.

"Grandmamma!" they cheered, hugging her.

"What's going on? Where is everyone?" Malia asked.

"The Court of Miracles is under attack. I don't know where your parents or siblings are, but we've got to get out of here now! There's no time!"

Malia started crying, but Esmeralda felt like she was in a daze, even though she could feel tears streaming down her cheeks. Why were they being attacked? Who would do such a thing? Suddenly, she felt wide awake. She could feel the cord of her necklace under her nightgown. But when she looked down at her fingers, she immediatley knew what she was missing.

"Oh no! I forgot my ring!" she gasped, dashing back to their tent.

"Esmeralda, come back! Come back!" Maite and Malia cried, trying to push their way through. Not paying any attention to them, she pressed forward. Within several minutes, she was finally back at the tent. Moving her hands wildly around, she found what she was looking for within seconds.

"Esmeralda!" Maite exclaimed, sounding both furious but relieved at the same time.

"I'm sorry Grandmamma," she apologized, wrapping a purple shawl around her shoulders. After hastily getting out of the tent once more, they realized the seriousness of what was going on. The soldiers continued to press forward, slaying more innocent people as they walked. Cries of pain echoed eerily off the walls as many people met their untimely end.

"We've got to press forward!" Maite said, trying to sound brave. Grasping her granddaughter's wrist, she began to walk. Suddenly, Esmeralda felt someone pulling her back, steering her into another direction.

"No, you've got to go out this way! It's safer!" said a boy, revealing an opening in a stone wall. Looking at him closely, Esmeralda recognized him earlier. He had been that boy from the puppet show, who wasn't doing his job...

"MASTER! SOME GYPSIES ARE GETTING AWAY!" cried a voice shrilly. Suddenly, she heard something faintly clink as it bounced off the stone floor.

"But my ring!" she cried, trying to turn back around.

"Go, go!" the boy commanded, looking fearful. And with that, the stone concealing the secret passage slid in front of her face, leaving her and Maite in total darkness.

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**A/N: I know, I'm terrible. A cliffhanger ending AND a short chapter. But the story will get better from here, I promise! Until then, ta ta! And please review! **


	4. Escaping the Court

**A/N: Be advised that there is a lot of POV switches. They are gonna be notified with the line through the paragraphs. Hope you enjoy! **

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Clopin sighed with relief once the secret door had been closed. Hopefully, whoever he rescued, managed to find sanctuary somewhere else. Because the Court of Miracles was no safe haven now. Bodies were falling rapidly as metal swords slid through them like warm butter. Then, without warning, Clopin was approached by a trio of soldiers. They were glaring at him, holding up their bloody weapons as they glared at him.

"Where are they boy?" one snarled. He had a long, brown mustache and an extremely pointed chin. The other soldiers grinned, clearly meaning to do harm as they closed in around him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Whether it was because he knew they only wanted his blood or that he was too afraid, he wasn't sure. Spying a loose stone on the ground, Clopin tossed it underhand at the nearest soldier. Grunting with surprise, the soldier fell over, his armor crashing like thunder.

The fattest soldier let out a howl of rage, striking Clopin's head with the flat end of his sword. Laughing as the small boy fell to the ground, they made their way back to the battle.

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"Grandmamma, I'm scared!" whimpered Esmeralda. She and Maite had been crawling up a steep incline for nearly five minutes without any sign of an exit.

"Keep crawling, Esmeralda. We'll get out of this," Maite said. Esmeralda couldn't help but crying as she squinted in the darkness. Just a few hours ago she had been dancing with her family. Now she was fleeing for her life, unsure of what happened to everyone. How could something so happy become such a life-or-death situation so quickly?

"Wait, where's Malia?" Esmeralda asked. It had only occurred to her that Malia wasn't with her. Perhaps in the confusion, they had gotten separated.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Esmeralda asked without waiting for a response.

"We can only hope for the best, my child," Maite answered solemnly. Suddenly, they could feel a draft coming into the tunnel.

"Grandmamma, there's an opening!"

Sure enough, she was right. The moonlight was guiding their way to the outside world. Within minutes, they climbed awkwardly out of the tunnel, landing into a pile of wet snow. The cold winter air was harsh, causing their eyes to water. Snowflakes were starting to fall again, mere pin-pricks of white against the ebony sky.

"Keep up with me, darling!" Maite said, pulling her granddaughter along. Unbeknownst to the Gypsy women, they were walking on the frozen Seine River. Their callused feet began to go numb as they half slid, half walked away from their old home. No sooner had they passed under the stone bridge, a figure fell upon them. Esmeralda screamed as she was pulled down by her ankle.

"Frollo!" Maite gasped. The mad judge was grinning evilly has he dragged Esmeralda along the thin ice. How he managed to catch up with them, they did not know.

"Please, let me go!" Esmeralda begged, struggling to break free of his grip.

"You'll never escape me child! Never!" he replied, sounding quite pedophilic as he pulled her in closer. Suddenly, the ice started to crack underneath them. Due to the fact that he was heavier, Frollo started to sink. He gasped as cold water began to seep into his robes. Despite this, he still kept a firm grip on Esmeralda.

"LET ME GO!" Esmeralda cried more agressively, kicking her foot out. As her tiny foot connected with his nose, Frollo finally released her, swearing loudly.

"Quasimodo!" he cried, struggling to stay afloat as the current started to pick up speed. Blood was streaming down his face from the impact of Esmeralda's kick. It was only a matter of seconds before he was dragged under the ice.

"Esmeralda, hurry!" Maite commanded, pulling her granddaughter away from Frollo. By the time the water went past his shoulders, the Gypsy duo made it to shore unharmed.

"Master!" the little hunchback called, peering over the bridge. Frollo's hat blew into the air, landing in the boy's arms. Catching it, Quasi looked puzzled. Then he saw his master's body sink below the ice. There was no hope in Frollo surviving now. Shaking his head in sadness, he started his way back to Notre Dame.

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Meanwhile, Maite and Esmeralda had managed to make it into the heart of Paris. Despite the late hour, Gypsies were boarding their caravans, eager to escape the persecution back in the Court of Miracles.

"Press on, Esmeralda!" Maite said as they pushed their way through the crowd. The little girl's lungs felt like fire as she stumbled over icy cobblestones. How they were supposed to safely leave Paris in this mess, they did not know. But just their luck, a caravan was loading passengers as it was driving away from the city. Quickly approaching it, the passengers managed to haul Maite on board. Turning back, the old woman realized that her granddaughter was starting to fall behind.

"Grandmamma!" Esmeralda panted, running as fast as she could to catch up.

"Reach for my hand child!" she cried, sticking it out to her.

Some of the younger men aboard the caravan tried to pull Maite in, making it harder for Esmeralda to grab hold. JBy some miracle, she finally grabbed it. Her legs were practically gliding over the cobblestones now. She cried out in pain as her toes were repeatedly stubbed.

"Don't let go!" she shouted to Maite. But they already knew that would be the case. They could feel their hands slipping apart.

"Esmeralda!" Maite shrieked as her granddaughter fell to the ground. However, the caravan was going too fast to stop.

"ESMERALDA!" she screamed, crying hysterically as she was pulled into the caravan. But alas, the youngest daughter of the Romanai family couldn't hear her. For as soon as she struck the ground, she fell unconscious.

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**A/N: Jeez, it seems like every chapter I do for this story has a cliffhanger. It would've been up yesterday, but I was having some issues outside the Fanfic world. Please review though! **


	5. Seperate Ways

**A/N: I am officially a genius. I figured out that I can work on my fanfic chapters in the school library. And on top of that, if anyone finds my folder, nothing major gets deleted. Cause all I put in is (A/N) and BOOM! I can upload without even having the story on. I just save the document as I go! :) So hopefully this means quicker updates. So hope you enjoy!**

**OH! And in the last chapter I accidentally said "JBy" and I meant to say "Just by", but hopefully you got what it meant. **

**There also is a POV switch. **

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Meanwhile, away from all the hullabaloo above ground, Clopin began to regain consciousness . Before he got to his feet, he spotted a ring on the ground. Deciding it would be best to wear such a ring, he put it onto his finger. Thankfully, it managed to fit snugly on his middle finger. Then, he got to his feet and took in his surroundings. The soldiers had finally left, leaving behind a bloody carnage. The people whom he had known all his life: family, friends, acquaintances, lay in lifeless piles around him. Puddles of blood outlined the cracks of the cobble-stoned floor. As far as he could tell, not one person was alive. Sinking to his knees, he began to weep bitterly. He was so absorbed in his self-pity that he didn't hear footsteps behind him.

"What are you doing here, little one?" a deep voice asked.

Clopin squeaked in fright, scampering away as quickly as he could. Taking refuge behind a torn tapestry, he peeked cautiously around it. In the shadows, he could barely make the outline of a hefty figure. However, there was a slightly lighter area between them. The figure stood outside the light, however. Clopin could see the figure put its hands on its hips.

"I mean no harm, lad!" the deep voice said again.

"How can I trust you?" Clopin challenged defiantly, "I don't even know who you are!"

"I've lived in the Court longer than you, my boy. Don't be afraid, come on out," the voice encouraged.

"Only if you show yourself first!" the Gypsy boy responded hotly.

He could hear the mysterious figure chuckle warmly. "How about we compromise?" the figure finally suggested, "We can jump into the light at the same time. Is that alright with you?" Clopin pondered at the thought. Sure, it seemed dangerous. But at the same time, he had no where else to go. Perhaps he and this stranger could work together and help each other to survive.

"Alright," Clopin grumbled. Once that was established, they began to count.

"One-" Clopin said.

"Two-" said the mysterious stranger.

"THREE!" they shouted simultaneously.

Jumping out, they stared at each other in surprise. Clopin considered the figure with interest. He was quite a large man. A yellow tunic was stretched tightly across his bulging stomach. In addition, he wore orange pants and had rags for shoes. A bushy brown beard covered most of his face, and he appeared to be squinting slightly.

"So what's your name?" Clopin finally asked.

"My name is Valdemar. I was one of the personal advisers to King Niklaus II."

"I'm Clopin. I worked as a puppeteer's assistant."

They smiled warmly at one another, but then realized what needed to be done. Working together, they managed to drag every single Gypsy into a line. Once that was done, they took scraps of bloodied tapestries and draped it onto the bodies. Clopin started to cry again, and Valdemar put a big arm around his shoulders, squeezing slightly "I know it's sad and hard to cope with. But it was the least we could do."

And with that, the two left the Court of Miracles in search of a better life.

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Nearly half an hour later, Esmeralda finally had regained consciousness. Brushing the wet snow off her nightgown, she got to her feet. Feeling slightly dizzy, it wasn't long before she was on the ground again.

"What happened?" she asked herself outloud. Her head felt like it had been split in two. And worse, she was finding it harder and harder to remember how she was laying on a street in the middle of the night. Or perhaps it was early morning; she wasn't quite sure. Taking a few deep breaths, she finally got to her feet. She shivered, hugging herself as she walked down the streets. She soon came upon a tall building with a cast-iron fence around it.

"Is anyone home?" Esmeralda asked, gripping the iron bars. "HELLO?!" she cried, trying to shake the fence. Within seconds, an old woman was hobbling towards her with a lit lantern.

"What in bloody blazes are you doing out this late, child?" she asked. Esmeralda could make out the woman's hunched apperance, rotting teeth, and hairy mole on her chin.

"I'm lost. I don't know where I am or how I got here. Can you please help me?"

The woman regarded her for what felt like hours. Thankfully, she opened the gate and escorted Esmeralda inside "Well, no sense in turning you away. Its too cold out." As they approached the building, Esmeralda noticed black letters above the door.

"What does that say?" she asked.

"Orphanage," the woman said simply, "Its basically a place where parentless children come. You are to stay here until you are eighteen. However, under special circumstances you can leave earlier." Once inside, the woman led her into a large room. It had long wooden tables with matching benches tucked underneath.

"Now wait here, I'll get you something else to wear. That nightgown simply won't do it," the woman said. Nodding, Esmeralda sat down on the bench and cupped her face in her hands. To help pass the time, she admired how the moon's glow made the table seem more beautiful than ever.

"These were the smallest clothes I could find. But they should fit you well," the woman said. coming back into the room. Setting down the lantern, she gave the clothes to Esmeralda. She went into a shadowy corner to change while the woman turned her back.

"How do they fit, darling?" the woman asked.

"Quite well, thank you," Esmeralda said modestly. In all honesty, they weren't most flattering clothes in the world. She now wore a yellowish-brown dress that was tattered at the hem. On the bright side, the woman had found black stockings and a pair of old shoes.

"It seems to me that we haven't been introduced properly. My name is Camille Flemister. And who are you?"

"Oh! I know my name! It's Esme--"

She paused. Camille smiled at her patiently. Esmeralda furrowed her brow. _What _was the last part of her name? As hard as she tried, she couldn't remember what it was.

"It's just Esme," she finally said.

"Well Esme, I'm sure you'll be quite happy here," said Camille, "I'll show you where you shall be staying." Obediently, Esmeralda (who was now called Esme) followed her, carrying her old nightgown in her arm. Esme and Camille reentered the hallway and walked farther into the orphanage. Soon, they arrived in front of a wooden door. Holding up the lantern, Camille opened it. They were room lined with at least twenty-five white iron beds. Esme could make out the outlines of sleeping girls ranging from the ages of three to sixteen. Leading her down the row of beds, she had finally found Esme a neatly-made bed. A lumpy pillow sat in front of the headboard. At the foot of it, a red blanket was neatly spread out.

"Good night, Esme. I'll see you in the morning," Camille said, leaving her to get ready for bed. Not bothering to change out of her clothes, Esme crawled into bed. Wherever she had came from, that was in the past. All she could do was look toward the future. And with that, she fell asleep.


	6. Planning in a Pub

**A/N: Alright, next chapter! Due to my chaotic life and inability to organize myself, this and Small World will be the only fanfics I'll be working on for right now. However, I do have at least 20 fanfiction ideas conveniently placed in my notebook. So when the time comes, I'll have plenty of stuff to write about! Until then, enjoy! **

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_Ten years later..._

The city of Paris had greatly changed since the Gypsies were annihlated. It was like a quilt sewn with patches of suspicion and shock was suffocating the community. But no matter how much the citizens tried to throw it off, they could not. Now that it was the month of November, people had started to retreat indoors to escape the advancing chill. Despite this, a fair crowd always managed to gather at the local pub. It smelt of smoke from a fire roaring in a grate. Women in extremely low-cut dresses served pints of alohol to the appreciative drunks. They talked gruffly at round tables, failing to whisper.

"Did ya here?" one man asked, slightly tipsy.

"Wha?" slurred his friend. He was far more drunk than his comrade, his eyes out of focus as he grinned toothily.

"Not all them Gypsies are dead, ya know. In fact, one of them royal daughters is alive!"

"Really?" the second man asked. When his companion nodded in confirmation, he slowly got to his feet.

"HEY EVERYONE!" he cried. Everyone turned around, startled. But only a few looked interested,"THIS GUY HERE SAYS A GYPSY 'CESS IS ALIVE!" Some started laughing crudely, while others resumed conversation.

"You idiot!" grumbled the tipsy man. Raising his fist, he punched his friend in the mouth. As a mild scuffle ensued, two men chuckled in the corner.

"See what interesting people you can find in pubs, eh Clopin?" chuckled the fatter one. Drops of ale dripped slightly from his bushy beard, and he was smiling warmly. The man who sat across from him looked completely opposite. He was a young man about eighteen years of age. With brown eyes, a pointed nose, jet black hair and a goatee, he was easily the most attractive man in the room.

"Well, you were quite right, Valdemar," replied Clopin airily, chugging the last of his ale. They had come to the pub in hopes of recreation. Or better yet, a job. Ever since the two men had evacuated the Court of Miracles a decade ago, nothing had been the same. Despite their efforts, they failed to make much money. Unless Clopin's puppet shows counted. He could easily earn enough money to supply food and clothes through generous tips of small children. However, housing was far out of the question. Mostly they slept wherever they could find refuge.

"Do you think its a possiblility that we could sell your ring? I'm sure that would fetch a fair price on the black market," Valdemar pointed out. Glancing down at the emerald that rested on his ring finger, Clopin covered it protectively. No matter how much it was worth, he couldn't part with it. On that fateful night where he lost everything, he had saved Esmeralda and Maite from being slaughtered by Frollo's men. By holding on to the ring they left behind, he felt obligatory to keep it safe until he had found them. While there was a slim-to-none chance that they'd be alive, all he could do was hope. Unless---

"I've got an idea!" Clopin cried suddenly, causing everyone in the put to stare in his general direction.

"What is it, lad?" Valdemar asked, perking up instantly.

"I saved Esmeralda and her grandmother the night the Court was seized. What if we found a way to bring her back to her grandmother! We'd be rich!"

"Surely wouldn't her grandmother _know _if we brought the wrong Esmeralda?"

"But that won't happen!" said Clopin confidentaly, "All we have to do is make sure that the girl we get can imitate her exactly. If you look at it, its a win-win situation! We just have to get a woman to impersonate her and we'll have the money in know time!"

"What if she figures out that the impersonator is a fake?" Valdemar wondered, a hint of worry behind his deep voice.

Clopin opened his mouth as if to answer, but then closed it again, thinking. Finally, he spoke up "Hopefully by then we have the money. But if not, we're going to be in serious trouble."

Valdemar looked at him thoughtfully, clearly weighing their options. It was a risk, but one that could pay off.

"Alright then. I'm all for it!" he boomed, shaking Clopin's hand. They began to discuss their plans; such as where the auditions would be held, how they'd get to wherever the Grandmother was, and so on. By the time they left the pub, they felt very confident. As the sun began to set, they had no idea what sort of adventures lay in store for them. But there was one thing they knew for certain. Jumping off the diving board into a pool of uncertainty was better than dipping your toe in and not going at all.

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**A/N: Even though it would've made more sense to talk about Esme's life as an orphan, I decided it was better to just dive right into this story and get to the good stuff. Otherwise, I might never get it finished. Please read and review! **


	7. Signs and Stableboys

**A/N: Sheesh, its been a while since I've even worked on this story! Due to the fact that "vacation" and "homework" don't mix well with my teachers, they'll be plenty more updates! Hopefully, sometimes I find it really hard to work on another chapter merely a few days after I write it. Anyways, this chapter is gonna start with the POV of the kids. Then its gonna switch to Esme's, so hopefully that won't be too confusing. I'll make note of it with those pimptastic lines. **

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Meanwhile, at the local orphanage, something big was happening. The orphan Esme, who had finally turned eighteen, was scheduled to leave at any minute. The other orphans rushed to the windows to witness her departure. It wasn't everyday that an orphan was sent out into the world on their own. Normally they'd be taken away by a loving family. However, there were also the "special cases". Some orphans were taken away at earlier ages to train for war or to become "refined ladies". Others, like Esme, were forced to fend for themselves on the streets. Because in reality, they couldn't provide

"Good-bye!" they called to the two figures outside. One of the figures happened to be Camille Flemister, the old keeper of the orphange. The other was an orphan by the name of Esme. She had arrived at the orphanage approximatley ten years ago. Needless to say, she did age nicely. Her black hair was quite bushy and her eyes were greener than blades of grass. She wore the same attire she had worn as a youngster; which consisted of a tattered dress, stockings, and shoes. However, she was given some additional clothing to keep her warmer in the elements. Among these included fingerless gloves, an extremely baggy coat, a hat, and a scarf. The children watched with baited breath as Esme and Camille stood at the iron gate for several minutes. After what felt like forever, Esme finally opened the gate and ventured out into the world.

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**A/N: Esme's POV**

Esme's fingers curled around the necklace she wore. It looked something like a dream catcher, but it looked like a map. Even though Esme didn't exactly know where the map lead to, it was still better than nothing. She had a vague feeling that whoever had given it to her _must _have loved her at some point. As a younger girl, she didn't know and didn't care to pay much attention to her old life. The orphanage was the only life she had ever known. And now that she wasn't even living there anymore, Esme felt the only logical thing to do was find her family. Camille Flemister, however, had other ideas. She had strictly instructed Esme to go to down to the harbor. Down there, she'd be responsible for harvesting fish. While it wasn't exactly the work for a woman, it'd be better than begging on the streets.

Trudging through the slush, Esme finally came to a sign. If she went to the left, she'd be taken straight to the harbor. If she went to the right, it would lead her further into the city of Paris.

"If I go left, I'll be Esme the orphan forever," she said sadly, picking at cuticles, "but if I go right..."

She paused mid-sentence, unsure of what to do. One path was set in stone for her, but the other was open to exciting possibilities. Still, there was the chance that she could fail. What if her family wasn't out there? Then what would would become of her. Squinting, she could barely make out the tops of Notre Dame's belltowers against the overcast sky. Maybe God would know the answer. Unsure of how to go about how to ask Him, she'd figure she'd shout aloud. After all, the street was practically vacated.

"Send me a sign!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air, "uh... a hint! Anything!" Sitting on the snowbank next to the sign, Esme rested her head in her hand. Suddenly, she could hear the snow shifting behind her. Then, a goat's head popped up, blinking at her. His horns were gray and a golden hoop was pierced through his right ear. Bleating eagerly, he took hold of Esme's scarf and dashed with it. Thankfully, he didn't go too far. But it looked like he wanted to play...

"Give that back! I don't have time to play games. I'm waiting for a sign," said Esme.

The goat merely ran towards the right. Managing to grab hold of the scarf, Esme started tugging with her all her might. The goat, however, had other ideas. Running around her in a circle, he got Esme's leg's tangled up. With a shriek, she landed into the snowbank. Bleating yet again, the goat went halfway down the path that veered to the right.

"Ha! Would you look at that? A goat wants me to go to Paris," Esme scoffed, brushing the snow off her coat. Gasping, she spun around and looked at the goat with new eyes. He started bleating more eagerly as she came to get her scarf.

"Alright, I can take a hint!" she giggled, picking it up. She stared down the street, breathing deeply. Shaking slightly from nerves as well as the cold, she began to sing to calm her nerves.

_Heart don't fail me now_

_Courage don't desert me_

_Don't turn back now that we're here_

_People always say_

_Life is full of choices_

_No one ever mentions fear_

_Or how the world can seem so vast_

_On this journey to the past_

_Somewhere down this road_

_I know someone's waiting_

_Years of dreams just can't be wrong_

_Arms will open wide_

_I'll be safe and wanted_

_Finally home where I belong_

_Well starting now I'm learning fast_

_On this journey to the past_

_Home, love, family_

_There was once a time_

_I must have had them too_

_Home, love, family_

_I will never be complete until I find you_

_One step at a time_

_One hope then another_

_Who knows where this road may go?_

_Back to who I was_

_On to find my future_

_Things my heart still needs to know_

_Yes, let this be a sign_

_Let this road be mine_

_Let it lead me to my past_

_And bring me home_

_At last! _

After quite a few minutes of skipping through the snow and singing in tune, Esme finally ended up in the heart of Paris. It was so huge! Just staring at the towering cathedral of Notre Dame made her feel woozy. Looking more closely at the map, she could see letters entwined on the border of the map. It looked like _Bucharest. _Perhaps that's where her family was! All she had to do was find some way to get there. Spotting a stable ahead, Esme and the goat approached the stableboy. He was approximatley thirteen years old, with shaggy brown hair and matching eyes.

"Excuse me, but I need transportation to Bucharest. Can you provide me with some?" Esme asked kindly.

"I'm 'fraid I can't do that for ya miss. But if you're seeking to go there, see Clopin. He can help you," the boy said, handing the horse a carrot.

"Where can I find him?"

"In the Court of Miracles. You didn't hear it from me, though. It's located underneath the biggest tomb with a cross above it."

"Thank you," Esme smiled. Looking down at her goat, she beckoned for him to follow "come along, uh--"

"What's the matter?" the stableboy asked.

"I just don't have a name for my goat," she said lamely.

"Well, he's awfully jolly," the stableboy observed as the goat nuzzled his legs, "perhaps you could call him Djali?"

"That's a great idea, thank you!"

And with that, Esme and her new friend Djali set off in search of the Court of Miracles.


	8. The Court of Miracles

**A/N: Recently, a lot of people have been saying they love the movie Anastasia but can't find it on Youtube. Well, fear not my friends! I found a widescreen, English version of the movie made by ****AnastasiaRomanov1997**. The music sounds a bit different from my video cassette. But the only reason I have it was because my friend let me borrow it a few years ago and I never returned it. Anywhoo, hope you enjoy the chapter! 

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It was dusk by the time Esme and Djali had reached the cemetery. Shadows danced off the tombstones eerily as they made their way into the maze of graves. Fog began to form, making it impossible to see as it grew darker. And within moments, Esme couldn't find her goat.

"Djali, where are you?" she whispered.

Esme could hear his bleating far ahead. Trying her best not to collide into the headstones as she ran, she finally spotted him. He was bleating eagerly with his hooves on top of a tomb. And above it, there was a cross. _Just like the stableboy said! _Esme thought happily.

"Give me a hand, Djali!" she exclaimed, pushing at the tomb cover with all her might. Djali pranced beside her and started pushing with his horns. After a few minutes, they had managed to open the tomb part of the ways. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was better than nothing. Curiously, Djali looked inside the tomb. And without a second thought, he went right in.

"Djali, wait!"

Esme decided to go feet first into the tomb. After all, if she did get stuck, it'd be better breathing fresh air compared to the air underground. Besides, some kind soul might spring her out in case that did happen. Suprisingly enough, she slid through easily. She let out a shriek as she began to slide down crumbling steps before landing in a sewer.

"Urgh!" she cried, repulsed at how the sewage spilled into her shoes. Pinching her nose with her thumb and forefinger, she ventured onward. She couldn't leave now. Djali was still somewhere in the catacombs. And she still hadn't found Clopin, whoever that was. Before she could call out for Clopin, though, she realized she wasn't trudging through sewage. Gasping in awe, she had entered a stone room with high ceilings. Dusty tapestries littered the ground. Caravans were overturned, their wooden wheels broken. Moldy food, pots, clothing, play things, anything you needed on a day-to-day basis lay on the cobbled floor.

"Hello, anyone home?" Esme called out. Djali was trotting cautiously, sniffing anything that seemed to be threatening.

"Do you suppose this is the Court of Miracles?" Esme asked Djali. He merely bleated in reply.

Shrugging her shoulders, she picked up a dusty plate from the ground. Esme stared at her reflection with interest. Then, her reflection was replaced by a girl being swung around in the air by a man, who was smiling. Before Esme could look at their faces clearly though, they vanished. Deciding it was just a figment of her imagination, she put down the plate and looked around curiously. The remnants of a vase were scattered on the ground. Bending down to pick up a piece, Esme could make out bears and swans painted with great detail on the smooth surface.

"This place--it seems like a memory from a dream---" she said.

Pausing mid sentence, Esme massaged her temples. She didn't know what was happening, but she suddenly felt like singing. And with that, she began to do so.

_Dancing bears, painted wings_

_Things I almost remember_

_And a song someone sings_

_"Once Upon a November" _

_Someone holds me safe and warm_

_Horses prance through a silver storm_

_Figures dancing gracefully across my memory!_

Then, Esme began to dance. And for some reason, she wasn't alone. Glittering shadows danced along with her. Girls had long skirts spinning while the men wore tights. A sweet music unlike anything she had ever heard filled her ears. Twirling to the point of dizziness, she giggled with delight. Suddenly, three girls older than her began to dance around her. They looked similar to Esme, but they had different colored eyes. A very young boy looked at her shyly from afar. Suddenly, Esme felt her tattered clothing melt away as she spun around in an intricate gown. All of this, mind you, was done as she sang--

_Someone holds me safe and warm_

_Horses prance through a silver storm_

_Figures dancing gracefully across my memory!_

_Far away, long ago_

_Glowing dim as ember _

_Things my heart used to know_

_Things it yearns to remember _

_And a song someone sings_

_"Once Upon a November"_

As she sang, she danced with various other Gypsies. Then, the crowd parted to reveal a man with brown eyes and a matching beard. His eyes were brimming with tears as he danced with her. Kissing her forehead after they danced slowly, he then whispered "Esmeralda."

Before Esme could ask what he meant by that, a sharp cry pierced the room, "Hey, what are you doing here?" Spinning around, Esme spotted two men on the other side of the room. Panicking, Esme fled in the opposite direction, unaware that the Gypsy spirits had disappeared. Djali started to bleat angrilly as the men came nearer.

"Stop! Hold on a minute!" cried one of the men, catching up with her. As they panted from their brief exertion of energy, Esme finally was able to get a good look at him. He was roughly her age with jet-black hair, a pointed nose, and a goatee.

"How did you get in here?" he asked her. Esme just shrugged her shoulders. Finally, the other man caught up to them. He was wheezing slightly and his belly practically sagged to the floor. For reasons unknown, the two men began to chatter excitedly.

"Which one of you is Clopin?" Esme asked.

"That would be _moi," _the boy her age said jovially, "and my partner-in-crime is Valdemar."

"Wait, you're a criminal?" Esme shrieked, backing away.

"Depends on what your definition of crime is," Clopin chuckled, "can I help you?"

"Yes. My name is Esme and I'd like to go to Bucharest."

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**A/N: I know, mean and nasty cliffhanger. Please R&R! **


	9. Realizations and Ruffled Hair

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**

A/N: Yet another update in Esmeralda's adventure. Sorry it took so long to update... I get sidetracked and lazy sooo easily.

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"Yes, I want to go to Bucharest," Esme repeated, "you see, I'm trying to find--"

However, Clopin didn't seem to be listening. He was eyein eagerly as he circled around her. Esmeralda, however, wasn't in the mood for people not taking her seriously.

"Why are you circling me? Were you a vulture in another life?" she asked grumpily. Coming out of his trance, Clopin proceeded to answer her again.

"Oh, its nothing," Clopin said airily, "it's just that you look an awful lot like-- uh, nevermind. So Eez-muh--"

"It's pronounced Ez-may," Esme said, cutting him off.

"Alright _Esme_," Clopin replied, "do you have a last name?"

"Um," Esme said, massaging her temples, "this is going to sound strange. But I don't have a last name. I was in an orphanage by the time I was eight years old."

Clopin nodded, massaging his goateed chin "And before all that? Do you remember anything else?" Esme was about to answer, but then she heard laughter mixed in with Djali's bleating. Valdemar was cuddling Djali, who looked estatic as he started to lick his bearded cheek.

"Oh look! He likes me!" he said, his bulging stomach jiggiling from laughter. Rolling his eyes, Clopin turned back to Esme, "well, I am planning to travel to Bucharest with myself and Valdemar. But the last one is reserved exclusively for Esmeralda."

"Who is she?" Esme asked.

Clopin gasped in shock, trying to get his counterpart to participate in the conversation. However, he was too busy scratching Djali in between his horns to notice. Exhaling in annoyance, Clopin began his monolouge.

"Nearly a decade ago, these catacombs were a refuge for outcasts and Gypsies alike. They called it the Court of Miracles. And on the night of its 300th anniversary, Judge Claude Frollo found the place and slaughtered everyone, including the royal family. Few managed to escape. However, one of those who escaped was the Grand Duchess Maite. We have reason to believe that her granddaughter Esmeralda survived as well. So it is our hope to reunite the royal family together."

Esme didn't know what to say. Were these men off their rockers? How did they even have _proof _that Esmeralda was alive? She could only assume that they were taking a leap of faith. _Just like me..._ she thought.

"You do look like her though!" Clopin insisted.

"Yes!" Valdemar exclaimed, placing Djali on the ground as he finally joined the conversation, "you have Niklaus's nose!"

"And Alondra's chin," Clopin remarked, tracing a finger along her jawline. Recoiling at his touch, she stomped off in the opposite direction.

"Wait, don't go!" Clopin cried, chasing after her.

"You honestly think that _I _am Esmeralda?" Esme scoffed, "I've been living in an orphanage for most of my life! How would I even know if I'm related to this Maite person?"

"You don't know what happened to you," Valdemar pointed out, "and know one knows what happened to her.

"And you're looking to go to Bucharest!" Clopin added, "and her only family is in Bucharest!"

"The question remains if I'm allowed to go with you or not," she reminded them. Clopin exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at his friend "What do you think Vald?"

"Well, she certainly does _look _like Esmeralda," he said truthfully, "and if you aren't the princess it's an honest mistake. But if you _are _the Princess, you will be reunited with your family!"

"Exactly!" Esme cried, looking exceptionally cheerful since encountering the two men. Djali bleated loudly, looking up at Esme with curiosity.

"Djali, we're going to Bucharest!" she exclaimed happily.

"The goat is staying," Clopin said matter-of-factly.

"I'm his owner, and I say he goes," she replied hotly.

"I'm allergic to goats," Clopin confessed.

"You don't look allergic."

At this, Clopin began coughing for emphasis, doing his best to be histrionic. However, it wasn't having the effect that he had been hoping for. Esme chuckled, shaking her head at the boy.

"I take it the goat can come, then?" Valdemar asked.

"Yes," Clopin sighed. Suddenly, a cold breeze came through the Court of Miracles, ruffling everyone's hair.

"Let's get out of here," Clopin said, placing a hand on Esme's shoulder blade to push her onward. Valdemar followed suit; but little did they know that they were being watched. At least ten feet above them was a small stone perch. And on it stood a man, a hideous man. One eye was hidden unterneath a massive wart. His hunchback was crooked and his red hair hung in front of his face. And in his hands, he carried a hat with a red ribbon attatched to it. The hat hadn't moved in over a decade until that girl came in the room. So that meant that the impossible had happened.

"Esmeralda's alive?" he whispered.

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**A/N: YAY! I'm finally done with this chapter! It's about time that I started writing again. In case you didn't get it by now, Quasi will be playing the role of Bartok (which I personally think is quite cute). Please R&R!**


	10. A Discovery

**A/N: Wow, I'm actually more inclined to write this story lately than It's A Small World. By now you should probably know that it takes FOREVER for me to work on chapters. And with all the crap outside here (i.e. SAT Prep, Drama Club, Kickboxing, planning for Prom) it'll be a while before I even complete some of these. Ah well, hope you enjoy**

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Quasimodo stared in disbelief at the retreating trio. How could it be that Esmeralda was alive? Sure, he had witnessed her escape ten years ago. But he had never expected for her to survive this long on her own. The red ribbon that trailed for the hat started fluttering again. Quasi wasn't exactly sure why, but he believed that his master, Judge Claude Frollo, had created an unbreakable bond with this hat.

Suddenly, the hat lifted out of Quasi's hand and actualy floated. _This can't be happening! _Quasi thought _There's no such thing as magic! _Cautiously, he followed the hat deeper into the catacombs. Skeletons lined the wall and it reeked of rotting flesh and sewage. He could barely see the outline of Frollo's hat as he walked further along. Without warning, the hat dropped into a puddle. Picking it up, he looked up and jumped back in shock. Standing before him was the person he hadn't seen in nearly a decade. It was Judge Claude Frollo.

"M-master? You're alive?" Quasi asked.

"Quasimodo, is that you?" Frollo asked, his pupils shrunken down due to the lack of light. His gaunt frame was hidden underneath sopping robes. His nose was now crooked, but all traces of blood were gone. His bony hands took the hat lovingly from Quasimodo and rubbed it against his sunken cheek.

"Did I ever tell you that I sold my soul for this hat?" Frollo exclaimed.

"No Master. I did not know that," Quasi confessed humbly.

"Well, I did. And since I sold my soul for it, that means I'm apart of it. Therefore, I die if there is no way to repare it."

"I see," Quasi said, "but I have something to tell you sir! The hat came to life because I saw her! Esmeralda's alive!"

Frollo's caring look immediatley hardened, "What did you say, boy?"

"I said that Esmeralda's alive. I was in the Court of Miracles, minding my own buisness, when she came and started to talk to these men. Sir, that hat was _moving! _Surely this must mean that she survived?"

"That Gypsy brat!" Frollo snarled, wringing his hat to get out the sewer water. "I vowed to annihalate them all! _She _is the reason that I've been stuck here! After I slipped beneath the ice, the river's currents dragged me to a wall where I was sucked into a tunnel. And sure enough, the tunnel led right back to these catacombs!"

Quasimodo remained silent, watching his Master grow more vengeful and evil by the second.

"But now that I have this again," Frollo proclaimed, placing the hat on his head, "the last of the Romanai's shall DIE!"

At this, the breeze picked up speed, rattling the bones on the wall. It created an eerie musical beat. And sure enough, Frollo started to sing:

_In the dark of the night I was tossing and turning  
And the nightmare I had was as bad as can be --  
It scared me out of my wits --  
A corpse falling to bits!  
Then I opened my eyes  
And the nightmare was me!!_

_I was once the most respectable man in all France!  
Then when the Gypsies dwelled here they made a mistake!  
My curse made each of them pay  
But one little girl got away!  
Little Esme, beware,  
That Frollo's awake!_

Suddenly, skeletons and other creatures down below started to sing as well. Creepy-crawly bugs, rats, and even the skeletons began to sing in harmony with the crazed judge.

_In the dark of the night evil will find her  
In the dark of the night just before dawn!  
Aah..._

_[FROLLO]  
Revenge will be sweet_

_[FROLLO AND CREATURES]  
When the curse is complete!_

_[ALL]  
In the dark of the night_

_[FROLLO]  
She'll be gone!  
I can feel that my powers are slowly returning!  
Tie my sash and a dash of cologne for that smell!  
As the pieces fall into place  
I'll see her crawl into place!  
Au revoir Esmeralda, your grace, farewell!_

_[CREATURES]  
In the dark of the night terror will strike her!_

_[FROLLO]  
Terror's the least I can do!_

_[CREATURES]  
In the dark of the night evil will brew.  
Ooh!_

_[FROLLO]  
Soon she will feel that her nightmares are real._

_[ALL]  
In the dark of the night_

_[FROLLO]  
She'll be through!_

_[CREATURES]  
In the dark of the night  
Evil will find her  
Find her!  
Ooh!  
In the dark of the night terror comes true.  
Doom her!_

_[FROLLO]  
My dear, here's a sign --_

_[FROLLO AND CREATURES]  
It's the end of the line!_

_[ALL]  
In the dark of the night...  
In the dark of the night...  
In the dark of the night..._

Suddenly, the sounds of stone crumbling rang in Quasimodo's ears. Gasping in shock, he saw thousands of tiny stone creatures flying in the air. Their ruby encrusted eyes glowed with hate as the flew far away. _Are these GARGOYLES? _he thought in horror. Sure enough, he was right. Because his Master was just about to conclude the song.

_[FROLLO]  
Come my 'goyles,  
Rise for your master,  
Let your evil shine!  
Find her now,  
Yes, fly ever faster_

_[ALL]  
In the dark of the night...  
In the dark of the night...  
In the dark of the night..._

_[FROLLO]  
She'll be mine!_

With a final chord, the music ended and Frollo smoothed back what was left of his graying hair.

"So what do we do now, Master?" Quasi asked. Reaching into his robe, Frollo pulled out a chipped glass ball. It looked like something Gypsies used to tell fortunes in, portending to the future. Raising his hand above the orb, he began to mutter incantations that Quasi couldn't understand. A green gass swirled inside the orb. And within seconds, Quasi could see the shadows of small figures. There were two men; both had facial hair. However, one was quite stout and the other was lanky. In between them carrying a goat was a woman, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.

"We watch and we wait," Frollo stated.

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**A/N: I know, another nasty cliffhanger. But there is a few Frollo/In the Dark of the Night videos on Youtube. And they're quite good. Please R&R! **


	11. The Carriage Part I

**A/N: Ah, the joys of being lazy. Seriously, I need to get back into writing! On a lot of my stories I'm facing writer's block so PLEASE send suggestions! I promise to fully acredit you with the idea, too! So enjoy the chapter.**

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Unaware that they were being watched by a socipathical judge and his hunchbacked sidekick, Clopin, Valdemar, Esme, and Djali walked through the snow-covered streets.

"S-so what e-exactly are w-we looking f-for?" Esme asked, her teeth chattering from the cold.

"Clopin had an arrangement with a friend to get us on in a carriage. But_ somebody," _Valdemar grumbled, "forgot to ask where this so-called 'friend' would meet up with us!"

"Well, if _you _weren't rushing maybe I would've remembered," Clopin barked back.

The pair argued while Esme struggled to keep up. The snow was so deep that it began to fall into her shoes, soaking her stockings. Then, she spotted something that clearly the men hadn't seen. It was the carriage! It was extremely long and was pulled by half a dozen steeds, stomping their hooves to get out the excess snow. The wooden wheels were covered in ice, but aside from that it looked relatively safe.

"Oi! Look!" she cried, pointing ahead.

"Aha! There it is!" Clopin exclaimed, jogging through the snow. Esme finally set Djali down and chased after him, while Valdemar brought up the rear, waddling as fast as he could.

The coachmen was getting ready to leave when Clopin shouted, holding his tickets in the air. He eyed the trio as well as the goat with suspicion.

"You do realize that I don't allow animals inside?" he stated, raising a bushy eyebrow at Djali, "he'll make a mess!"

"But sir-" Clopin said, sinking into a bow and removing his hat, "this goat is very clean. Why, you could search the entire city of Paris and not find anything cleaner! Besides, if he makes any mess, I will be sure to pay full damage costs."

Esme and Valdemar stared at him, their mouths agape with shock. Why would Clopin be defending the very animal who hadn't taken too kindly to him?

"Very well," said the coachmen, "I will take you as far as you need to go. But keep in mind the journey will be long and we may have to rest to water up the horses."

"Not a problem at all," replied Clopin. Taking Esme's hand, he let her step into the carriage first. There was an aisle barely three feet wide and about half a dozen compartments lined each side of it. Sliding the door back, Esme sat down on the plush seat and looked out the window. Clopin sat beside her, which left Valdemar to take the seat across from them along with Djali.

"There's a window behind my driving seat, and you can open it if you need anything," said the coachmen, making sure they were settled in.

"Thank you very much," Clopin said, handing him their tickets. And with that, he closed the door. They could faintly hear the coachmen cracking his whip, signaling the horses to trot. The carriage lurched forward, causing Esme and Clopin to practically land on top of Valdemar. But then the ride became steady, and they sat down in their seats.

After a few minutes of silence, Esme slouched in her seat, placing her feet on the seat across from her.

"You know, you shouldn't slouch. After all, you're a Gypsy Princess," Clopin pointed out. Shooting him a look, Esme sat up a little straighter.

"Clopin?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think I'm royalty?" she asked dreamily.

"Of course!" Clopin said confidentaly.

"Then stop bossing me around!" Esme hissed, turning to look out the window. Clopin looked taken aback, but Valdemar merely chuckled.

"You walked right into that," he pointed out, "and she has a mind of her own, you know."

"I hate that in a woman," Clopin mumbled. Esme didn't seem to hear (or if she did, she made no effort in physically harming him). Silence seemed to compress the compartment like a vice. Finally, Valdemar spoke up.

"Are you going to miss it?"

"Miss what?" Esme replied.

"Paris! The city of lovers! Notre Dame! The Seine River! Baguettes from the bakery!" Valdemar cried, waving his hands dramatically as he spoke.

"Well, I guess it was my home at one point," she said thoughtfully, "but my necklace says 'Together in Bucharest'."

Suddenly, the carriage slowed to a brief halt. Esme could hear a faint cry, a thud of something on the ground, and then the carriage picked up speed again. Only this time, it went a little bit _too _fast.

"What do you think that was?" Esme asked.

"Probably nothing," Clopin said, shrugging it off. Djali bleated loudly, tapping his hooves against the window.

"Stop that, Djali!" Esme ordered, picking him up. She looked outside, trying to see what was causing him to act up. In the dim light, she could barely make out a body lying in the snow. His crimson blood stained the white flakes around him, and Esme couldn't help but scream.

"No need to panic," Clopin said nervously as Valdemar tried to calm her down, "we need to think of something."

"How can we think when our coach has been hijacked?" Esme cried hysterically.

"Shhhhhh," said Valdemar, holding a finger to her lips, "I understand that you are frightened. We all are; but for our own safety we have to stay calm."

Lost for words, Esme just nodded. The carriage picked up speed, going faster than ever before.

"Maybe if we throw something, the horses will be spooked and we can jump off when the carriage stops," Valdemar suggested wildly.

"If you want to do that, we better start now," Clopin said, pointing a finger out the window. A few miles away, stood a stone bridge over a river. It had crumbled in the middle, leaving at least a forty foot gap between an icy plunge and safety on the other side. And they were headed straight for it.


End file.
